My World In Decline

My plunge into poverty goes something like this.
At my recent pilgrimage to Starbucks over Thanksgiving holiday, I thoughtlessly ordered yet another random, useless hot beverage for about $4. Back home in Disposable Income Land, such practices were common.
I make demands, hand over my debit card, and the demands are satisfied with a single swipe.
Yup, it is as awesome as it sounds. So imagine my anger when this happened.
Me: One tall cup of douchey pretention. Christmas edition, please.
Lady: $3.88
Me: *presents magic card*
-swipe-
Lady:.... Let me try again.
-swipe-
Lady: Your card is declined.
Me: *hangs head in shame, bums from friend.*
This was my first decline. Keep in mind that I wasn't on some shopping rampage through Neiman's.
Nor did I stroll on down to the Lexus dealership and give the ol' card a whirl there.
I was just trying to buy a seasonal beverage. For $4. So apparently, I'm poor.
This is news to me, but I think it's all karma from my job as a bellhop/valet at the front desk of a hotel.
We always had people check in that seemed shocked when they couldn't afford the $200 room.
"I'm sorry, ma'am, there seems to be a problem with your card. Do you have another method of payment?"
One of two things would happen after the initial embarrassment subsided. They'd just whip out some more plastic. That was never any fun.
Or.... The person would respond with rage.
"That's impossible!" "This is unacceptable!"
 Or my personal favorite
 "THIS IS AN OUTRAGE."
Suddenly, the 34 year old pharmaceutical rep with the neck tattoo seemed to transform herself into a diamond heiress. There was nooooo way she was out of money. No, the highly specialized computer specifically designed to check her in was clearly at fault. The hefty sighs and trashy diatribes always kept me quaking with silent laughter. Suddenly on the other side of the coin, things are much less funny.
I miss the days when I could buy a shirt. Or spend $12 at Burger King.
Now, no one gets Christmas presents. Sorry, ya shoulda known me when I had a job.
For the moment, my once invincible and bottomless card is just a thin piece of plastic, cracked from overuse.
My card number, once gold and shiny, literally cannot be read anymore.
Good thing I have it memorized for the folks at Amazon.